When sorry just isn't enough
by PirateMinx
Summary: After Jack returns from the locker, Elizabeth realises that her feelings are just too strong to ignore. When Will finds out, there is hell to play, but he has secrets of his own... Love blossoms where danger lurks... POTC characters post ATW but with alternative storylines. First time posting on this site so I humbly await views...
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth approached him tentatively, with the air of a rabbit darting nervously around its killer. They had left the beach, the arid and scorching beach, and were in the close confines of his cabin, far too intimate and close. For there was no avoiding her crushing guilt anymore, no escaping her choking emotions. She was locked in this room with her shame and her racing thoughts, locked in with the man she had tried to kill.

The silence that yawned between them engulfed Elizabeth in a black hole of tension and was not helped by the way Jack paced around the room like a caged tiger, scarcely allowing her to see more of him than his back.

"Why are you here?"

The question was direct, straight to the point and there was no affectionate edge to his words. This was not the rum-addled Jack that she had known before the Pearl had been lost. This was the Jack that had been devoured by the Kraken, betrayed and sacrificed by her and pushed to hell and back. He was hardened, unyielding with a dark line of suspicion beneath his chocolate brown eyes. His seriousness scraped away at any feigned confidence she could pretend that she had, and she had the grace to look down at the wooden floor, ashamed.

"I had to see you." Her voice was small and meek.

"Why?"

"I wanted... I _had _to see you. I had to apologise."

Jack's sharp bark of laughter made her flinch as though he had slapped her. Part of her wished he had. It was obvious he was angry, that much she had expected. But what was worse was the underlying edge of hurt and vulnerability she had exposed him to, feelings that Jack never experienced. He was a philanderer, a warrior free spirit who did as he chose and took what he wanted, never answering to anyone. And single-handedly she had robbed him of the ship he adored and left him to a grisly fate, facing horrors she could only ever imagine. He had made it through alive, but at what cost? He was a changed man, and it was all her fault.

"I'm so sorry, Jack..." Elizabeth lifted her head, blonde strands of hair falling loose around her reddening face and she finally allowed herself to look at him. He was tanned and beautiful as ever she remembered, but there was no humour dancing in his dark eyes as before. If anything though, this new sombre mood only intensified her desire for him. On her quick paced walk through the ship to his cabin she had known she was risking all that she had with Will for the chance of this one conversation and maybe more, and she knew by just seeing him again, that she had been right to come.

Jack sighed heavily, relenting from unleashing his barrage of anger against her but still heavy hearted. "I suppose you acted in the way you saw best. But I came back to the ship. I came back for you all, you know. You, Will, the crew. That... leaving me to...that..." He shuddered at the memory.

Elizabeth felt tears spring to her eyes and she wanted only to run to him and kiss every part of his face. "If only you knew, Jack, if only you knew..."

"Knew what?" Jack's stare was smouldering, it filled her head with fire and before she knew it she was slowly being drawn across the room towards him, a moth to a flame, crossing the space between them in a daze. He stood his ground, not moving towards her, but not drawing away either.

"If only you could know how I feel about you..." Elizabeth's voice was barely a whisper but he caught every word, and if she wasn't so focused on keeping her nerve she would have thought that he may have never been as serious as he was now.

She reached him, and he looked down, not even trying to create more breathing space for them both. Elizabeth looked up into his eyes, so close to him that she thought her long eyelashes would brush his cheek. She could feel her breath on his skin and could feel his warmth emanate back to her. "If only you could know..." she breathed, and let her eyelids close, allowing her slim body to stretch up slightly and close the last inch or two between them. Her lips found his, soft and gentle, and she did what she had always wanted to do... She transferred every unspoken word and feeling, every loose inhibition and desire, everything that she had never been able to say... and turned it all into a kiss.

For a second, the longest second that seemed to stretch into an eternity, she pressed against his mouth, the mouth that she had thought about in the corners of her mind for so long now, the mouth that tasted sweeter even than she could have imagined. She pressed all that meaning against him and then the second passed and she began to realise that maybe she had misread the chemistry between them... Maybe his anger was so much bigger than she could have realised and he couldn't bear the thought of reciprocating. But just when she thought she would have to pull away and hide from the hurt of it, his mouth opened and he finally yielded against her. His dark lips parted and she felt his tongue gently slip against hers and suddenly she was enveloped in his arms and he was warm, so warm around her and the cabin of the Pearl seemed to melt away, along with any recollection of her entwinement with Will.

The first kiss was broken, replaced immediately with a series of smaller, quicker kisses and now that she was here, Elizabeth knew what she wanted. Her body yearned for it, craved it like it craved food and air. She snaked her arms around his neck and positioned herself so that her mouth covered his completely and it was her tongue entering his mouth, her proving to him what she wanted, what they were going to do... He backed away slightly under her persistency and she followed until his back connected with one of the ornately carved pillars of his four poster bed, and their bodies became even closer. Her slim hands ran down and found his shirt and ripped it smartly apart, revealing inches of tanned and tattooed chest. He did not seem perturbed by her enthusiasm, or perhaps he was but was just allowing her to play it out and see where it would lead... Perhaps he thought she was going to back down at any moment and he was going to call her bluff. But she wasn't.

The ship rolled gently with the waves and the sudden lurch knocked them off balance, sending them side-stepping across the room. Jack caught them both and Elizabeth was now walking backwards towards the bed, pulling Jack along by the loop in his unravelling belt, still kissing him passionately. There was another heave and Elizabeth fell back amongst the bed covers and Jack fell too but caught himself expertly, placing a hand either side of her shoulders. For the first time, he broke away from the heated kisses as though for air and a reality check.

"Elizabeth..." His voice was quite choked and husky, as though his desire was causing difficulties in speaking. "Are you sure, this is wise... this is what you want to do? I mean..."

Elizabeth allowed a soft trace of a smile to linger on her pink lips as she ripped his shirt off and slipped one hand deftly below the belt to the hardened warmth on the inside, pressing gently but firmly. His eyes flickered close and his breath caught. "Quite sure," Elizabeth whispered, pulling off the rest of his attire.

"Well if you _are_ quite sure..." Jack murmured into her soft hair, pulling open her own blouse and slipping a warm hand under her skirt and against her cool thighs.

She gasped at the sudden sensation, the explosion of tingling nerve endings she felt there as his fingertips brushed higher and higher towards the height of her bare flesh. His fingers were as soft as a feather but insistent and firm at the same time, each stroke and caress making her breath catch in her throat. His fingers began to probe deeper and with a thrill of excitement she relaxed and let him and was rewarded with waves of crashing pleasure. He brought his face up close, intimately looking into her eyes and kissing her mouth softly and watching as her eyes rolled back and she tried to stutter his name but couldn't. He nuzzled her neck and whispered filthy things into her ear, things that she could not have imagined anyone uttering to her in any walks of life and she felt her thighs close protectively around his hand, keeping it there as her hands grasped desperately for the sheets, anything to hold onto as the waves took her.

Jack's mouth migrated south of her neck towards her chest, gently pulling her blouse further away from her skin to reveal her breasts which he caressed gently with a warm mouth and inquisitive tongue. His hand was still coaxing her down there and she was beginning to shudder and she bit her lip against a tidal wave of noise that was threatening to explode out of her.

Expertly, devilishly, he relinquished his hold on her and used both hands to caress her for a moment and then guide himself towards her. With a voice as low as a breath of wind, he looked her at her deeply. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, feeling nerves and pleasure overwhelm her in equal amounts.

And then he was inside her. There was a split second of pain as he pushed gently but insistently and he kissed her softly as he did so, and then it was gone and a warmth and sense of relief spread through her as he rocked swiftly against her. Each thrust locked his muscular frame against her slim body and with every brush of torso against torso, it felt as though their bodies were designed to connect like this. Even in her darkest of dreams and wildest of fantasies she had never imagined it could feel quite like this, and she knew quite correctly, that Will would never be able to make her feel like this. It was as if Jack knew everything about her body and could unlock parts of her that even she did not know could exist.

"Oh..My god," she breathed, each word catching at the back of her throat. The thrusts were deep and slow but they were becoming faster, and with the increased rhythm, the feeling inside her began to intensify. Her legs wrapped instinctively and tightly around him, locking him towards her, for him to get as near and as deep as he wanted. She began to tremble again and this time she knew that he would not stop, he could not stop until she had felt the sheer pleasure about to cascade around her. Her shaking hands grasped desperately for something to cling onto; the bed sheets, his back, his hair, his muscular arms, but then his knowing hands took over and pinned hers firmly back behind her head so that she was held down, fast and strong. As the climax rushed through her and with nothing to hold onto she let the satisfaction pour from her lips in a breathless scream, and tightened around him impossibly hard. Her loud cries and shuddering body was enough for Jack to reach his own moment of heightened release and he slammed against her with a groan, holding her arms tight as he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed heavily.

Slowly, he released her and as soon as her arms were free she embraced him and held him in a deep kiss. Gently he pulled back from her and lay back at her side, his deep, dark eyes heavy with tiredness and lust. Elizabeth curled in against him and felt his arm close around her shoulders and listened to the sound of their pounding heartbeats and heavy breathing slowly fade back to normal. Her body was aching slightly and still warm from his magical touch and as she began to drowse alongside him, she felt drunk with the new happiness that he had shown her.


	2. Chapter 2

Weeks later...

The monstrous waves broiling beneath the Black Pearl's heaving hull did nothing to distract him from what he had heard. Will's fist clenched petulantly, his fingernails digging a bloodied groove within his palm. The ship rolled again and the wooden beams groaned beneath his feet, but he swayed with the movement, keeping his balance as well as any rum-soaked pirate.

_Her lips, her mouth, tainted and taken... Her hands willingly wrapping around his neck... That sweet voice, issuing words that were of such poison to his ears... _Will forced his eyes away but he could not rid his brain of the image that was scorched there. Pure fury coursed through his veins like blood. All this time, he had trusted her. Chased her over every ocean just to be with her and protect her and this is how he was repaid?

"Bites down close to the bone, doesn't it, lad?"

Will glanced over his shoulder and saw Hector Barbossa limping heavily towards him, his matted and tangled greying hair half hidden beneath the feather hat he treasured. Will did not show him a friendly greeting; after all, they were far from friends.

"What's it to you?" he asked bitterly, trying and failing to smooth the tortured expression off of his face.

Barbossa feigned hurt. "It does me no good to see a young pirate treated so," he said carefully, his yellow and bloodshot eyes watching him.

"I'm not a –" Will started, but the sentence froze in his throat. Of course it was too late to argue that now. After a year or more constantly at run on the high seas, battling one supernatural enemy after another and butchering countless in the name of freedom and love... He was more of a pirate than even he wanted to admit.

"She's chased her heart and it's not led her to you," Barbossa nodded curtly at the half-closed door leading to the private quarters within.

The fight had momentarily left him and Will felt his shoulders sag. "How? How could she do it?"

"Have your months at sea taught you nothing?" Barbossa growled. "It brings the worst out in people. Every hidden yearning, the sea takes it from you and bares it on your sleeve. The girl has trouble hanging over her like a ghost and she is taking the most direct route to it. Mark my words; Jack is leading her to nought but pain."

Will felt his fist clench again. "I helped him... I saved his life."

"To your own ends," Barbossa cut across him. "Let's not stand on ceremony here lad, you used Jack to get what you wanted just as much as he did you. But don't get me wrong." The ageing pirate limped forward, his pockmarked face turned to whisper closer to him, his thin and lined lips pulling back into a leer. "He has double-crossed you and us all, time and again. Who better to end it all now, than the husband to be, spurned by the wench and her new lover?"

It was the words his bubbling rage needed to hear, the final straw to push his anger over the edge. He did not think to notice the trace of persuasion and double-dealing in the pirate's voice, or the obvious goading to yet again do someone else's bidding for him. Elizabeth had hurt him and it was time they paid.

The cabin door was only half-closed, Elizabeth had not intended to stay in there long, but of course the pirate inside could charm a snake into his arms and she had fallen for him again. Her whispered promises of love to him were only too loud and as she was willingly led towards the bed, she felt the familiar wave of desire rise through her. The wave was cruelly doused as the door was kicked open.

"Will!" Elizabeth cried, pulling herself from Jack's lips and staggering backwards.

"Wife," Will spat, his eyes glimmering with venom she had never seen before. It was hatred, a like he had never felt before. For too long, he had been waylaid and anchored down by needing to impress and bowing down to his betters, all the time suppressing a quite alarming temper. Learning his true bloodline and keeping with pirates had unearthed his pride and abstinence. There was not a chance he was going to curtail it now.

"Will, what are you-?" Elizabeth's eyes widened as she heard the long sword scraping as it was unsheathed and saw it flash in the daylight, streaming in through the corridor.

"Easy," Jack said warily, shackles rising.

"How dare you speak to me, after what I just heard? After what I just saw?" Will added, his saliva tasting like bile in his mouth. Crimson was lining his vision; the sword was heavy in his hand. Already he wanted to see it slicing through the air to the other man's flesh.

"Elizabeth, perhaps it would be best if you waited outside," Jack said out of the corner of his mouth, and it broke Will's heart to see her immediately begin to back slowly away. As though she were obeying him...

"How can you take orders from him?" he cried, brandishing his sword, forcing Elizabeth to freeze in her tracks. "How can you kiss him, when you said you would belong to me?" He could feel pain tingeing with his anger and he refused to let it show.

"They're not orders," Elizabeth said quietly and her head was bowed in shame. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Will repeated and he took a threatening step forward.

"There's no need for that," Jack said in a warning tone, and he too took out his sword.

"It's all coming out now, isn't it?" Will said, and he was oblivious to the traces of madness infecting his words. His eyes were wide and he took in the scene before him; his fiancé edging towards the lover who was acting her protector... It was all wrong. That was his job. _He _was her protector, not this imposter. Not this, _pirate. _"How long?" he asked quietly, and he drank in Elizabeth's shocked face with distaste. "HOW LONG?"

Elizabeth flinched. "Not long... About three weeks... Will, you have no idea how so-"

"Don't say it," Will said, twisting his face away. "You've done your worst. This is between me and him now."

Jack was still watching him carefully, as though eyeing a madman. "It was deception, I understand that. But there is no need-"

"There's every need!" Will roared. "You can't back away from this one, Jack! You've taken what was mine and if I can't have her back..." He struggled to find the words that could sum up his emotion. "Then no-one can," he said simply. "What's the matter, don't think you can beat me now you don't have your bag of tricks handy? No glamorous escape?"

There were circling each other like caged dogs, countering each other as they had done when they had first met in the blacksmith's what seemed like decades ago. That time, Will had been fighting Jack because he had threatened her honour. Now Jack had stolen her honour and abused it countless times probably, and they were fighting again. But it was different now. Will had learnt more technique, his morality had changed, his tolerance waning. He was stronger, and more efficient. But, and as much as it killed him to admit it, that did not mean he was a better fighter. Jack was many things, but weak was not one of them. He was surprising, stronger than he looked and so intelligent. He would always back out of a fight when he could yes, but when he had to give in to battle, and actually take the plunge, had Will ever seen him lose?

Jack could see the doubt formulating in the other man's eyes and he preyed on it, as a shark would take a seal. His eyes narrowed and he held his sword strong; there was no hint of an apology in his stance. So he and Elizabeth had been found out. That had been wrong, but their feelings were not. If they had to fight then so be it, but he would not lose. He knew everyone underestimated his ability and he planned upon it, used their disbelief to his advantage to escape time and again. But deep down inside, in his very beating core he knew he had killed many a time, had fought to the death hand to hand and murdered when he had had to, and if such a time arose now, there would only be one winner and he did not lose.

Will struck first as Jack knew he would and he was ready for it, calculating his steps two ahead at a time. The sword jabbed the air harmlessly and he side-stepped it, brushing it idly passed so that he barely had to move. The second was a swipe, a sweeping stroke aimed for his legs, and he pushed Will's sword up strongly with his own blade so that Will stumbled back and he stepped forward. The third attack was his own –strike when their defence is down – and Will struggled to counter his constant blows.

"Stop it, please!" Elizabeth sobbed by the door. She wrung her hands uselessly and looked around for some sort of help, some way of distracting them from a battle to the death but saw nothing of use. The only soul around was Barbossa, limping quietly away towards the deck. "You did this!" she cried out passionately, and his mocking laughter only fuelled the tempestuous atmosphere.

"You always have to steal what's not yours!" Will puffed, staggering backwards and then powering forwards.

"Pirate, remember?" Jack retorted breathlessly, as a fist came flying through the air and connected with his jaw, whipping his neck round and sending him stumbling into the wall. He was back on his feet lightly and dodged the second blow, kicking Will's sword out from his flailing hand. The advantage was momentary, but he seized it and the tip of his blade hovered inches from Will's exposed throat. "Stop this," he ordered and there was no hint of humour to his voice, only ringing authority and resonance the like of which none in the room had heard before.

"Why not finish the job?" Will said wretchedly, knowing in his heart he was defeated in every way. This man had taken his girl and beaten him in front of her. This was the bottom of the barrel. He would rather die now than have to relive what he had already seen.

"Jack," Elizabeth appeared at his shoulder and lightly rested a hand there. Will watched as Jack warily relented and lowered the blade. "Will, I am so sorry. But it isn't Jack you should hate. It's me."

"Who is to say I save my hatred for only the one?" Will said bitterly, refusing to look her in the eye. They were so beautiful, but not his to stare at anymore.

"I wanted to tell you, I did. I really did," Elizabeth added, and he could hear the sincerity there and it burned him. "I just couldn't. When Jack returned there was so much I had to say, I had no idea how strong my feelings were until..."

Will looked away, flinching as though she had slapped him. "I don't need to hear anymore." Instead he looked up at the pirate, his stubborn mouth upturned. "So what now, Captain Jack? We just carry on living in harmony as though nothing has happened? You just steal her from under my nose and I pretend not to notice?"

Jack swallowed a nasty retort and instead raised his voice, loudly and clearly calling for his first mate. "No. Mr Gibbs will take you to the hold until we make port and then you will leave."

"Jack!" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking mildly outraged. "You can't do that, where will he go?"

"Oh he's already thought of that," Jack said wryly, and Will did not like the knowing gleam in the other man's dark, flashing eyes. "Young Mr Turner here has been plotting to leave us for some time to fly away to English roots, leaving us as breadcrumbs for the navy to pick us off like flies. A distraction while he sails off to do something better. He has been biding his time. This cosy revelation just happened to be a good excuse for him to way anchor."

"I... I don't understand..." Elizabeth's voice trailed, and she seemed young and fragile. Almost too innocent to hurt, Will thought and was surprised at the guilt that he suddenly felt. Damn him for knowing everything as always.

"It could have worked!" he snapped. "Me and Elizabeth could have got away, but once again you have to engineer it to your own advantage."

"Engineer what to whose advantage?" Elizabeth queried, her tone rising, her skin reddening beneath her thing dress. "Will someone please tell me what is going on?"

"Beckett was not the only privateer after our tails," Jack obliged. "The waters are teeming with them. We're pirates; we're a prime source of meat, love. He would have had dozens working for him and we have ships, information and maps that they might need. People like that will never leave people like us alone for long. When one dies another springs up. Will struck up a bargain a while back to avoid Jones', being captured and all the rest of it. He was promised immunity to anti-piracy laws and probably a fancy title to boot."

"As if I care about any of that," Will hissed. "My father-"

"Apologies," Jack gave a mock bow but his eyes still narrowed with serious distaste. "Of course his father's protection would have figured into it, and no doubt yours. Very honourable. But what about the rest of us? How long can you go on turning your nose up at pirates when you're a betraying mutineer, the very worst kind? And I may I remind you, the very kind that _your father_ despised?"

"You know nothing-"

"Sit down, boy," Jack growled as Will threatened to rear up into his face. "I know e_verything._ When will you learn, that those scumbag privateers will always go back on their word? Once you are a pirate, you are always a pirate to them and therefore never safe."

"Excuse me if I don't take your advice just yet," Will said sourly, sinking back down, but inwardly shaking with anger and angst. "I knew what I was doing. My other option to be free was the heart of Davy Jones remember, and that went downhill when Tia Dalma decided to spare him. What choice did I have?"

"You could have chosen not to betray us?" Elizabeth said through gritted teeth, tears spilling out of her eyes and leaving dirty tracks down her blushing face. "All this time, I have felt guilty, holding back because I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to be honest with you, I thought I owed you that much. And all the time...you were planning on feeding us to the navy like dogs?"

"Not you Elizabeth..." Will tried to explain but Elizabeth cut across him with a shaking hand.

"Just the pirates? When will you get it, Will... I am one of them now, so betraying them is betraying me... We will always be in danger thanks to you." She shook her head and wiped her face with the back of a trembling hand. "I thought I knew you..."

Will's apology was cut short by the emergence of Gibbs' in the doorway. "Cap'n?" he asked warily, surprised at the scene befalling his eyes.

"Take him away, Gibbs," Jack said sternly, watching Will rise up with no hint of remorse. "Take him away until we can figure what to do with him."


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you think Turner went off to find Beckett's men, then?"

Gibbs' question was quiet, aimed only for Jack, but both men saw that Elizabeth had heard his words. Her skin blanched as though she was sick, and she rose to her feet without a word, disappearing into the bowels of the ship without a backwards glance.

Jack sighed at his first mate's distinct lack of tact. "Almost certainly probable," Jack answered unhelpfully and scrambled to his feet. The deck of the ship was its usual scene of casual mayhem at this time; the weather was fine, the course true so there was not much for the crew to do other than idly man the sails and make their way happily through the fresh cargo full of rum they had recently plundered. Jack was far from a cruel captain, so unless there was something in particular he needed to glean from them and as long as they followed basic orders, he let them about their way. He had learned a long time ago, that a happy crew was by far the best way to go about it. And long term, more loyal...

He sighed again and allowed himself a leisurely stretch, his face reaching up closer to the warm Caribbean sun raining down on his tanned skin. It had been an odd sort of fortnight, full of change and he was wary of it. Will had been found out to be a traitor and disembarked at an island a few miles south of Tortuga, where much to Jack's suspiciously timed good fortune he had managed to unload Barbossa and a few other cretins at the same time. The crew had been gleaned of its malignant members and the ship felt lighter because of it. The cargo was bursting with rum barrels and enough food to allow them uncapped voyage for a good three months. There had been no sign of British sails for weeks. It was almost too good to be true.

Elizabeth had been a difficult code to crack. It had been her who had initiated this romance, magically changing his guarded distrust of her into passionate affection and it had been her who had insisted they continue irrespective of Will. His departure however had definitely changed something about them though, but he could not put his finger on it. Her ardour hadn't cooled, not exactly; she was feisty and as willing as ever. But there was something more closed about her, as though deep inside she was closing her feelings to him, as though frightened to be hurt a second time. It puzzled him to be perturbed by such earthbound problems. He was far from innocent in the ways of women, a demi-god in comparison to most; but feelings like affection and maybe more... They were new to him. Rare and fleeting as a gossamer breeze, and he did not know how to process them. And for the woman in question to suddenly be different towards him... Well, that was even more confusing.

Jack took a long and easy swig of rum and then left the bottle for Gibbs to jump upon before following Elizabeth's perfumed path through the ship. With his eyes closed and a thousand other scents rich in the air he could have followed her scent across oceans... It sent his pulse racing and his mind ticking. True enough, he found her in his cabin, standing and staring out of the crescent window at the water lapping over the pane wistfully.

"No trouble I trust, love," he said in a low voice, hesitating before approaching her. He did not want to force his affections on her now if the mood did not warrant them. Perhaps she just required an ear to bend whilst she spoke, or perhaps she was better off alone for now.

"No, no trouble," she replied, turning as he approached and placing a light but doubt-lifting kiss upon his mouth. "It's just..." She broke away and looked down distractedly at the floor.

"Just what?" he asked, catching her hand, and placing his gently under her chin so that she made eye contact.

"I can't believe Will has gone," she said finally, and saw the disappointment in his eyes. "Not because I miss him," she made herself clear, quickly. "But because I thought I knew him. I thought I was a good judge of character. And if I got him wrong, what else have I got wrong?"

"You haven't got me wrong, love," Jack said quietly and he leaned down slowly to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered close and she took his tongue, her trouble deflating slowly with the pressure of his mouth.

Elizabeth, ever the unsuspecting romantic, was quietly thrilled as he pulled her closer by the material of her dress and then directed her smoothly to the bed. The covers fluffed gently around her, feathers filling the air as she fell heavily onto the pillows. He was close behind her and the tempo of his pursuit was steady and distracting, as though he knew she did not want to think about Will anymore and wanted her trust in Jack to be reaffirmed, as quickly as possible. He always could read her like an open book...

His trinket adorned fingers ruffled the skirts of her dress up around her waist and with no hesitation they found the part of her moist and warm body that they were searching for. She let out a little gasp as they parted her easily and slipped inside, his other hand snaking over her back, undoing the restricting laces of her corset. She wanted to show him how much she wanted to explore him and take off his clothes, but she was paralysed momentarily from the electric currents that were intermittently pulsing throughout her and instead she pressed up against him, arching her back so that her torso was as close to him as she could allow. The dress fell away from her body in two parts and it gave her great satisfaction to feel Jack dive hungrily between her breasts and devour her like she was the best meal a man could ever lay eyes upon. He made her feel wanted, beautiful and rare... Exotic even... For a man like him to want a body as suburban as she thought hers must have been awakened a new confidence within her.

Her shaking hands had enough feeling left in them to pull off his shirt and other clothing and it was then that she felt him harden next to her, his skin touching hers, silk on silk. His velvet caresses between her legs were quickening and she could feel her body respond in the way it naturally would, inviting him to enter her more, and she breathed hard against him, taking time to insure he heard exactly how good it felt.

Her excited breaths and encouraging groans in his ear, made him harden even more and he felt his body would soon explode if he didn't press himself against her. She seemed to read his flickering thoughts and ran a slim hand down his toned chest, wrapping her fingers around his length, her own soft touch sending welcome fissions through his body. He moved onto his back, and fluidly she moved down his body, tracing light kisses over his tattoos and scars, every memory his body had to physically offer. There was a slight pause, a hesitation that she engineered for effect and just when he was about to look, he felt her warm wet mouth wrap around him. The feeling was nothing short of pure bliss and a low groan escaped his lips as his eyes closed of their own accord. She was so good at knowing when to move; she took him in part way slowly, each movement languished and savoured. She drew him out again and then drank him back in, devouring his entire length until she choked, the moisture created around him making each stroke more fluid and more pleasurable. His hands snaked through her light hair, tangling themselves in and pushing her gently to him so that they were more connected. Her pace became quicker and faster and he felt his blood begin to boil, his heartbeat quicken, his breath forced out of him in strangled bursts.

"Elizabeth..." he breathed. Part of him needed her to stop, there were a million more things he wanted to do to her first. But another more primal part of his brain was urging her to continue. The sparkling light of his ecstasy was nearly there and if she stopped now...

Elizabeth had learnt much from his cleaver teachings and one such lesson was how to gain satisfaction from giving your lover pleasure. To see Jack speechless and a slave to his own lust, empowered her and was creating small waves of her own. But then the fingers loosened the grip on her hair, slowly encouraged her to disengage and she reluctantly obliged.

The change in movement was lightning fast. With a gasp, Elizabeth was thrown back onto her back and as her eyes desperately sought his she felt the warm, enticing friction as he entered her and the almost pain as she took his hard length all the way in. He was faster this time, the rhythm established immediately, and as he quickly stroked her delicate area with each thrust she could feel how quickly the pleasure was threatening to overwhelm her.

"J...Jack!" she stammered, unable to do much more with her vocals than shout her approval. "Oh god... oh god!"

Each powerful thrust as he pushed into her made her chorus with exultant joy and as he sensed her body begin to tremble he suddenly hooked his arms through calves, lifting her slender thighs higher and tilting his hips so slightly that her flickering eyes barely noticed, but she could feel the change. He was deeper than ever before, the tops of his thighs against her legs, every inch of flesh touching as he rocked against her, sliding further in and out of her body with each sway. Elizabeth's fingers crushed around the satin sheets as she clung onto them, biting down on her lip to stop the groan flowing from her mouth to turn into an unbridled scream.

"Don't hold back..." Jack growled gruffly in her ear and Elizabeth was all but powerless to obey. As he rested her legs around her shoulders and slammed into her, she tilted her head back and, exposing her delicate throat let out her passion as the pleasure spread through her. Her mind was wiped blissfully blank, the best climax she had reached even under his exceptionally skilful touch. Jack waited only momentarily after her trembling and groans had subsided before shifting slightly so that she felt him release inside of her...his warmth seeping out and filling her like liquid gold.

Elizabeth let out her breath slowly, forcing her heart to beat strongly enough for her blood to pump as she watched Jack steady himself gradually and then collapse next to her, exhausted. She kissed him deeply, warmly wanting to protect and be protected at the same time. She nestled in against his torso, her cheek instantly warmed by his sharply rising and falling abdomen. She could still hear his heart pounding against her ear, and could almost taste the blood rushing through him. She felt him kiss her lightly on the top of her hair, and felt all tensions and worries instantly leak away from her. She wanted to talk to him, tell him how much he meant to her, but already she could hear the change in his breathing. The rise and fall of his chest was slowing, each breath becoming heavy and drawn out. She smiled; he had certainly earned his rest.

Sleep must have seized her too, as when Elizabeth next opened her eyes; she saw that there was no daylight in the room. The sloshing water against the window pane was opaque and the strip of star speckled sky that she could see was obsidian.

"Wake up, Mr Sparrow," she teased softly, nibbling his lower lip and rolling into him gently.

He grunted softly and his eyes barely flickered. "It's Captain..." he mumbled, poking her in the side.

"Of course, my apologies..." Elizabeth giggled and disappeared beneath the bed clothes. Already, even though he was only seconds roused from slumber, with one stroke from her dancing fingers he was swiftly growing again and she was quietly thrilled at his low gasp as she wrapped her mouth around him once more. In this tired, sleepy section of the evening, she was gathering control and she seized these rare occasions with relish. He gave so much to her and she stole so greedily, took so readily, that when he was still sluggish and half asleep, she liked to take advantage and repay his sexual kindness. Her tongue licked hungrily at his length, her mouth created a snug hollow for him to push into, and she let him gladly. Once again, she felt his fingers snake themselves through tendrils of her hair, and he drank him in more.

"Elizabeth..."

"Mmm..." she murmured against his salty skin. The ship rolled gently and she place a cool hand on each thigh to allow her plenty of leverage. She could hear movement above deck and voices calling orders but she ignored the standard sounds of nautical life. She opened her mouth wider, running her tongue wickedly around the edge of him and down the hardened length, sucking gently as she took him back in, harder and faster with each swallow.

"Elizabeth... Elizabeth!"

It was the change in his voice that made her stop and look up. She pulled the sheets and emerged, startled by his warning tone. "What's wrong?"

"Listen," he said, cocking his head to one side and focusing his dark, underlined eyes on the ceiling. Elizabeth followed his gaze and trained her ears on the noise from above. She had been wrong. What she had taken to be standard orders were in fact strangled cries of alarm, scuffles and the unmistakable and chilling sound of steel clashing upon steel. "Someone has come aboard," he said darkly.

Elizabeth froze eyes wide and terrified. "What do we do?"

Jack was already swinging out of bed, throwing on his clothes in a flash and reaching for his pistol and sword. "Stay here. I'll go above."

"I'm not leaving you!" Elizabeth remarked, as though that much were obvious. She too jumped out of the bed and pulled on her thin night shirt over her under-slip.

"Elizabeth-" Jack began warningly, but his words were cut off by a horrendous crash from above and the sounds of the crew awakening to a sickening battle. The pirate leapt up the sleek black steps three at a time with Elizabeth close at his heels and she recoiled at the sight.

Bodies were already littering the floor of the deck, swords inches from their hands as the sleepy crew had tried and failed to protect themselves and the ship from a silent enemy. Vicious layabouts with black bandanas tied crudely around their faces to provide anonymity were swarming the _Pearl_ like locusts on a summer's day, plunging their already crimson broad swords into the flesh of anyone that stood in their way. Elizabeth saw two smaller ships with unmarked sails anchored either side of the _Pearl, _flanking her.

"Jack!" Gibbs called desperately, managing to dodge the swipe of two swords to dash over to them. "We tried to fight them off but there was just too many..."

Even as he spoke, Jack saw more of the assailants clambering over the edge of the ship. One of the masked bandits rushed at Jack with a frenzied bloodlust glittering in his black eyes, and Jack went sword to sword in a heated clash, ducking a sly thrust and bringing his own sword cracking down against the man's legs. The intruder bucked and fell, bleeding to the floor. Elizabeth saw Jack raise his sword high and gasped, thinking she was about to see her lover behead the pirate, but instead he sliced through the bandana, revealing the man's grubby and unshaven face.

"Who are you people?" Jack demanded roughly. "Who sent you?"

Before the bleeding heap could respond a second voice called out to him. "Perhaps you should speak directly to our commander," another masked man remarked. The sword fights had momentarily stopped; the crew of the _Pearl _were now fully rallied and were still outnumbered four to one. There was no way they could win this.

"And who would that be?" Jack pondered aloud, refusing to sheath his sword.

"You'll find out soon enough," the miscreant laughed, roughly and nodded to two of his men. "Take her."

Two burly trolls lumbered forward and grasped Elizabeth roughly around each arm, causing her to scream, as they pawed loutishly at her thin and revealing shirt.

"Leave her!" Jack roared, outraged. But as he stepped forward to defend her, one of the thugs pulled a dagger to her throat.

"Precious little thing, this one," he leered, whispering into his ear. His exposed eyes glanced up at Jack, mocking his emotion. "I bet she'd bleed fountains... Take one step closer and we'll find out. I promise you that."

"Well, well, well. Jack Sparrow."

Jack spun around at the sound of his name, uttered by an unfamiliar and threatening voice. The darkness was swamping him; the lanterns usually burning all over the deck during the night had been doused. His crew were huddled behind him in a trembling semi-circle and their fear was palpable in the air. He could hear Elizabeth's terrified panting just feet away from him and his heart ached, knowing he was unable to help. He was surrounded by an unknown and ferocious army... His clever mind was ticking over, formulating all his options but he did not know how to get out of this one.

The enemy intruders fell back and allowed a new person to stride forwards, a tall man dressed in black, his face bare and exposed. His long hair was tied back and a single silver ear ring dripped from his left ear. A long sword was nestled in his belt, but his hands did not stray near it. He knew he was well protected and that if Jack tried anything, he would be apprehended instantly. He was a stranger, but possessed such a threatening aura, Jack was both intrigued and wary. The man stopped six feet away from him and took a deep breath and threw his arms wide as though he were commending the luxury of this newly taken vessel. "She's a grand thing, Jack! Must be your pride and joy. Second only to that beautiful creature there."

"Who are you?" Jack asked guardedly.

The man chuckled darkly, a treacherous and intimidating sound that trickled from a sneering mouth. "Of course, how idle of me. Allow me to introduce myself, Jack. The name's Argon Woolf."

"Never heard of you," Jack remarked promptly, the impressive name sending no triggers of recollection through his mind.

"Oh I know," Argon said softly, his coal eyes flashing with malice. "But I know all about you, and in time you will learn about me. We've come for you Jack, and demons don't like to be kept waiting."


	4. Chapter 4

The grand bulk of the former HMS _Atlanta_ was a positive fortress, keeping foes out and its guests locked tightly within its organically made shell. The keel and hull were larger even than the _Black Pearl_ with a cargo hold the size of a cathedral. But the ship was stolen and bore the scars and remnants of a rough taking; the once snow white sails had been crudely torn town leaving flapping strips blowing in the breeze that were not quite covered by their ill-fitting black replacements. There were large holes blasted into the floor from cannon fire and wounds sunk into the woodwork from the gun fire and sword marks left from the battle borne from the taking of the ship. Even so, she was a mighty temptress and the cells down in the hold that Jack now found himself prisoner were nigh on impenetrable.

Jack paced his cage like a lion, his normal rum induced swagger sobered out of him. He struggled to digest the snippets of information he had been given, to make sense of the facts before him. Argon Woolf, a onetime British mercenary turned pirate, working for the highest bidder... The _Atlanta, _stolen from the King's private navy beneath the monarch's nose, turned traitor on her own fleet and sailing away under mutinied command. Woolf was following someone else, someone who wanted Jack, but who? And why? He made enough enemies to last a lifetime, _two _lifetimes, but there was always a reason, normally money related. Was this a ghost from his past, hell-bent on settling a bitter score?

Cotton's parrot gave a disgruntled squawk, bringing him sharply back to reality. The rest of his crew were locked in the cell with him, sank miserably onto the damp floor. The only missing person in his little family was Elizabeth, who had been locked into a cell of her own, deliberately separated from him to cause more discontent. She looked at him now, her large doe eyes finding his dark pair and they passed silent messages between them. He knew she was scared, but she was brave and smart; she certainly wasn't going to voice her doubts and fears when they were not alone.

Somewhere above them, a door clanged open and the first shaft of dawn light seeped down the dank stairwell. Heavy footsteps signalled the approach of a tired guard, keys dangling noisily in his hand. His lips pulled back, revealing broken yellow teeth as he pressed his ugly and dirty face against Elizabeth's cage, forcing her to recoil in disgust. He chuckled at her shudder and spat messily on the floor, before wiping his mouth with the back of a dirty sleeve and turning to face the others. "You, Sparra'," he drawled, sloping towards the cell. "Cap'n wants a word."

"I can think of at least two," Jack said dryly.

Gibbs laughed darkly but stepped back as the guards hand hovered threateningly over his pistol. He took the key out and paused before inserting into the lock. "Anyone tries anyfink, and I'll blow ya blinking brains out, you 'ear?" Taking their silence as reluctant assent, he pulled open the heavy door and nodded his head for Jack to sidle past him. "Up top and straight out. Ya can't miss him."

Jack took his time as he passed the dirty sailor, the unwashed dirt and week old hangover smell mingling unpleasantly around him. Pirates were never the most cleanly of people, something he had long come to terms with himself, but this was particularly potent even for him. He savoured the brief seconds of freedom and used them to try to convey some sort of reassurance to Elizabeth's frightened face through the bars. He would break her out of there. Somehow. He just did not know how...yet.

The deck of the _Atlanta_ was as large as he expected it to be, a huge expanse of open floor, littered with dozens of sleeping men. He could see the stump near the stern that had once been a proud statuette proclaiming its allegiance to the king; its desecration seemed to add to the creeping sense of neglect that overcast the ship. And because of this, and in spite of its size, Jack could quite happily admit that the _Pearl _was a far superior ship. Looking across the toiling water to where she was anchored not one hundred feet away, he felt a sense of pride at her beautiful craftsmanship, her lovingly tendered timbres and sails, and the snugly nestled guns that were buried deep below. He eyed both ships critically as he walked slowly towards where the two men were waiting for him. When two ships were pitted against each other as such, a comparison was an obvious train of thought. The _Pearl _was a stealthy predator and was known to outrun any navy vessel which is what the _Atlanta_ was built as, however much the pirates wanted to claim her. The size was an issue, but there wasn't a huge amount in it, and Jack knew that with some good direction – by him of course – he could sail away to safety after leaving a good few more holes in the _Atlanta_'s bosom. All he had to do now was get him and his crew back over there...

Woolf stood waiting for him as though he were a judge presiding over an execution sentence. Beside him, was a smaller man, dressed in a coat of rich red velvet with golden embroidery and edging. His black boots shone almost as much as the sun and the feather's of his stolen hat were larger than Jack had ever seen. The man was stockily built, stout with a confident stance and air of pomposity lingering about him, like a misty haze. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he watched Jack approach out of one beady black eye, the other was missing and in its place was a long, thick scar that stretched from his eyebrow and down to his cheekbone.

"Mr Sparrow," he remarked as Jack reached the parapet on which the other man stood, squinting slightly against the sunlight.

"Captain," Jack muttered, disgruntled.

"You must be wondering why you are here," the smaller man said, enjoying towering over his captive. "Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Carson Fallow, Chosen Ambassador of the Caribbean Islands."

Besides the bizarre title, the name rang no bells in Jack's quick mind. "Ambassador..?"

Carson's thin lips pulled into a lop-sided smile, the skin on his face stretching and showing burn marks that had otherwise been invisible. "You don't remember me?"

Jack frowned, letting his smart gaze wash over this stranger. His stature, his scars, his puffed out chest, his eye-wateringly bright clothes... No bells were ringing. "No." he said, finally. "Should I?"

Carson let out a rueful chuckle. "I suppose I don't blame you, times have not been as kind to me as they clearly have to you. We sailed together years ago on a boat destined to the graveyard, _The Miner_, do you recall?"

The name sent unpleasant shivers down Jack's spine. It was a name he was not likely to forget in this lifetime, nor one he cared to cherish either. _The Miner_ had been a converted slave trading vessel, used to ferry convicts to remote prisons around the isles surrounded Britain. Bleak and uniformly depressing, they carried with them awful reputations of being ghostly and claiming lives. For if you boarded a prisoner's ferry, you were not likely to ever be seen again...

Carson watched him closely. "Ah, it's coming back to you, I see."

Jack felt his skin turn cold as his memory brought him back to that voyage. _The salty air was tinged with blood and fear. The air was cold, rich with the damp of the British winter. The waves were steel grey and lashing around the small boat, tossing it around as though it were a toy. A pile of bodies already mounting high in a corner; the bodies of those that dared to disobey and fight the insane commanders. The corpses had not been tethered down so with each violent lurch, the sneaking waves snatched another victim, so that the mountain of flesh was slowly eroded. _Jack looked down at the deep scars that weathered his arms, left by that day... _Jack fell to his knees, the blood oozing from the open lacerations sliced into his flesh by the captain, who towered over him with a mad gleam in his eyes. Another violent lurch and one of the dead bodies rolled off the pile and slid down the wet decking towards them, his cold and distant eyes open and staring into Jack's mortified face. He turned away but the crazed captain caught his hair and forced his head around so that he had no choice but to look into his fellow captive's face._

"_Filth," he growled. "You don't deserve to be alive. This is what lawbreakers in this country get, do you see?"_

Jack shook his head, desperate to rid his mind of the commander's shock of wiry hair and the frenzied look of violence glimmering in his lined eyes. His escape had been nothing short of a miracle. _A fire caused by one of the drunken prison guards when_ _the ship had been less than a mile from port... Flames leaping high, engulfing the decrepit ghost ship_ _and the anguished screams from the men caught inside, asleep in their cells or their beds. He had been on rope duty all night, one of the few to be awake as he was forced to work through the nightly gales. He saw and heard the flames lick around from the cargo upwards and knew there was nothing he could do. The few inmates that were above deck he roused and together, still shackled in chains but away from the watchful eye of the captain, they jumped overboard scarcely with their lives._

"You weren't the only one to escape, though I wasn't as lucky enough to be as untouched as you," Carson remarked, his voice low and solemn as he too remembered the horror of that voyage.

"Ambassador..." Jack repeated the title that he had been told, confused as he now he came to think of it he could just about recall Carson's younger and scar free face along with the other doomed souls on the boat, not as a guard, but as one of the inmates. Like him.

Carson nodded, pleased that he was making the connection. "It's an honorary title, of course, but one that I intend to honour with full enthusiasm. You see the islands around the Caribbean have a denser population than you may think, and both natives and pirates have something in common – they don't like the British, or their navy. Your misadventures have taken you off the map for some time, Jack. You've missed the politics whilst you've been away. But in your absence I, along with my crew, were nominated to help infiltrate any ship sailing with the royal coat of arms. Easier than you may think, we took the _Atlanta_ from underneath the king's nose, so it makes our job even easier. We have a small fleet nestled safely not sixty miles from here and we have spies on every corner of this ocean. Any British privateer that comes within range can taste our vengeance."

"But why have you brought us here and attacked my crew? One good eye must be enough to see that the _Pearl _is far from a navy vessel."

"Aye, but that's what you were brought here for. Two reasons, short and sweet. One, I saw you back then and I knew you were a pirate to be reckoned with and your reputation since has only reaffirmed that belief. My fleet is full of turncoats and fledging pirates, but we need your knowledge of these waters and the secrets you have seen. And two, I told you that we would know if there is any British ships within distance, and you've had one following you for three days now. Why is that, do you think?"

"Turner," Jack growled, his anger simmering.

"What was that?"

"William Turner. Or Hector Barbossa," Jack added, realising that either one could have sold him out to the authorities to their own ends. "They're not following me because they are in league with me but most likely to arrest me. Or worse..."

Carson smiled, a thin gesture that did not touch his eye with warmth. "All the more reason to rally at our side then! Fight for your freedom...isn't that what piracy is all about?"

"Not the rum and the women, you mean?"

"Women... that's a fine woman you've got yourself down there, Jack. You didn't strike me as a man who could settle down."

Jack tried not to rise to his bait. "I like to surprise people," he replied lightly. "If you do genuinely require my help – and to confirm the definition, that is _you _coming to _me_ for _my_ help – then you will release my crew immediately. I don't respond well to threats and I'm not helping anyone with anything until you let them go."

"As you wish," Carson, nodded. "It was a gesture just to ensure that I had your attention. But of course." He nodded to Argon, who strode swiftly away from them and down below decks. "You don't look easy, Jack."

"It all seems too...innocent," Jack answered slowly. "Why would you come all this way, to such dramatic effort just to get my attention and ask for my help? There are a dozen pirates out there who have seen what I have seen, Barbossa being one of them. Why not hijack him, and not me?"

"You're a clever man, Jack..." Carson unclasped his hands and paced slowly to the side of the ship, looking down across the calm water to where the two smaller boats were anchored next to the _Black Pearl_. A few squealing gulls wheeled overhead through the sky, circling the tips of the masts and fluttering away in increasingly large circles. "A storm's coming..." he said quietly, more to himself than to his one man audience. "Do you remember what it was like on that boat? Do you remember how every morning, you would wake to think you were going to die? And every night you would pray that you would?"

"I try not to," Jack replied quietly.

"I do," Carson murmured. "Every day. Every day that I have to look at my mutilated face in my reflection... Every time that I see the scars from those shackles or hear that bastard's voice ringing in my ears... No man should have to live through that horror. Those ships should not exist. Ferrying men to a prison island so that they can be tortured and used for slave labour before being executed... Are we heathens? But they do exist. There were hundreds before _The Miner_ and I am sure there have been hundreds since. Thousands of men being slaughtered mercilessly because they disagreed with a one man rule against the high seas. It seems a bit wrong, don't you think?"

"Yes, but it's a changing world. As much as I think their rule was wrong, I don't pretend to believe that I can change it," Jack said carefully.

"One person never changed anything. It has always been armies. Strength against strength with added strategies along the way, and that is how we will win," Carson said, resolutely. "I tracked the _Pearl_ down because I have heard the stories. I have heard the rumours circulating about you and your ship for many years, Jack. And I envy you. One man, one _pirate_ creating such a legend. It's people like you, and me, who will change history. We can change what it means to be a free soul. We can teach the British legions a thing or two and secure our legacy along the way."

"I'm not inclined to teach anyone anything..."

"Call it what you will," Carson swept his doubt aside. "We were born leaders. Survivors, wouldn't you say? We were put upon this earth to make something of it, and we already have! We both have slipped out of trouble probably more times than we care to admit, and each escapade has led us closer to finding out our true destiny. The Navy will always be on our tails, hunting us down like dogs until we do something about it. Well we know that they are coming for you now, why not turn upon them? A wolf pack rebounding upon the hounds and show them why ships were really put upon the seas..."

In spite of himself, even though his instincts were on edge, there was something deeply inspiring and captivating by Carson's words... Hadn't he always thought himself a little special and a cut above the rest? Every time Jack had weaselled his way out of trouble with apparent ease, hadn't he laughed at his foes lack of foresight and known it was in his skin to out fox them? The chase and the constant war between the two sides was daring yes, but wouldn't be better if once and for all they could end the battles and the pirates could sail peacefully as free men? If he could be part of that and named a legend on top of it, what was there really to think about?

"Jack, what's going on?"

Elizabeth appeared, swiftly followed by the rest of the crew, confused but seemingly unharmed. Her dark eyes were narrowed suspiciously as she eyed Carson. "What's happening?" She spoke directly to Jack, probing his mind for an honest answer.

Jack held her gaze for a moment before turning to Carson. "If we're to fight the Navy, what exactly is it that you want us to do?"


End file.
